Blade Runner images



 
  film

I feel that life is divided into the horrible and the miserable. That's the two categories. The horrible be like, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. And the miserable is everyone else. So you should be thankful that you're miserable, because that's very lucky, to be miserable. --Woody Allen in Annie Hall



Here are my top twenty-five favourite films (linked to the good old Internet Movie Database), in chronological order:



Sasame yuki
  1. Ugetsu monogatari (1953), Mizoguchi Kenji. I hate resorting to mere adjectives, but this film is brutal, poignant, and hauntingly beautiful.
  2. Some Like It Hot (1959), Billy Wilder. It's still very funny. It's still quite sexy. It has witty dialogue, singing, and dancing. It was made by Billy Wilder with Tony Curtis, Jack Lemmon, and of course, Marilyn Monroe. How can anyone take their eyes off her? What more could anyone possibly want from a movie?
  3. Lawrence of Arabia (1962), David Lean. I tend to like ambitious movies, even when they fail. I appreciate filmmakers who take chances and aim high. Fortunately, this one succeeds quite well in every respect. However, you get the sense that this film became something beyond what the filmmakers had ever imagined before they began making it. They probably had set out to make an adventure film about T.E. Lawrence, but they eventually wind up with a film about, well... Somehow the movie took on a life of its own. The film itslef became entranced by the vastness of the desert. About this hypnotic adventure epic, Roger Ebert wrote: "The impulse to make this movie was based, above all, on imagination. The story of Lawrence is not founded on violent battle scenes or cheap melodrama, but on David Lean's ability to imagine what it would look like to see a speck appear on the horizon of the desert and slowly grow into a human being. He had to know how that would feel, before he could convince himself that the project had a chance of being successful."
  4. 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968), Stanley Kubrick. His detractors often like to point out that HAL 9000 was perhaps Kubrick's most compelling character in all of his films. However, I think there's nothing wrong with that. Very notable Kubrick detractor Pauline Kael wrote in her review of The Shining that 2001 shows that "mankind began with the weapon and just went from there... man is a murderer, throughout eternity." Well, Pauline Kael notwithstanding, but it's quite obvious that this is just my kind of movie. Please see entry below for further comments.
  5. Chinatown (1974), Roman Polanski. "Forget it, Jake. It's Chinatown." Perhaps the best noir ever made, this is such a rich, complex, layered, and sumptuous work that you'll make new discoveries everytime you see it. As a matter of fact, it's so rich that I have to watch the damn thing a couple of times just to understand what the hell's going on.
  6. Annie Hall (1977), Woody Allen. I don't reckon I have ever come across a more quotable movie.
  7. Alien (1979), Ridley Scott. This has got to be the most suspenseful film I have ever come across. When it was released back in 1979, people had not seen anything like it before, and they had no clue what to expect. While it does not have as many gorgeous visuals as one would come to expect from later Ridley Scott films, the originality of the story and the intriguingly original but thoroughly developed biology behind H.R. Giger's alien are just astonishing. From the elegant yet mysterious opening credits onward, this film is incredibly well-designed in every respect. The now-dated 'Mother' computer console room aboard Nostromo notwithstanding, the production design is still breathtaking in terms of ingenuity and the staggering level of detail. It still amazes me that this film was made way back in 1979. Furthermore, this is also the first movie to depict a seriously conceivable future, complete with dirt, grime, and an overwhelming grunginess as well as sleek and shiny inorganic surfaces of the future (in addition to the ominous presence of biologically freaky organic ones).
  8. Manhattan (1979), Woody Allen. Although it lacks sympathetic characters, this work is filled with so many gorgeous images (camera work from the great Gordon Willis) and accompanied by wonderfully uplifting music. Remember that image of them sitting next to the bridge at daybreak?
  9. Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981), Steven Spielberg. A lot of hokey, pulpy fun, but very well done, and holds up well. I love the sequels too. This is Spielberg at his best and most tolerable-- when he's not playing a serious filmmaker.
  10. Blade Runner (1982), Ridley Scott. This is perhaps the most visually striking film ever made, and its thematic richness provide sufficient fodder for endless distertations.
  11. Fanny och Alexander (1982), Ingmar Bergman. This coda to his film career sums up the major Bergman themes quite nicely. There's a very poignant moment in the film which I can identify with quite intensely. After the death of her husband, the mother of the children, in a very deliberate means of catharsis during the middle of the night, paces back and forth while screaming at the top of her lungs, in measured intervals. You really feel her pain and despair.
  12. The Right Stuff (1983), Philip Kaufman. See entry below.
  13. Sasame yuki (Makioka Sisters) (1983), Ichikawa Kon. Even though Donald Richie hates it, this is still a gorgeous film based on the Tanizaki Junichiro novel. This is also one of the relatively rare features appreciated by both Pauline Kael and me.
  14. Brazil (1985), Terry Gilliam. I don't know what to say about this one at the moment, but I really love my Criterion Collection set.
  15. The Purple Rose of Cairo (1985), Woody Allen. Clever, funny, and ultimately heartbreaking, this is probably my favourite effort from Woody. I think Allen himself mentioned this one as his favourite effort. Even Pauline Kael liked this later effort. It also features Mia Farrow's best onscreen performance. She said this was her favourite as well; she cited in her autobiography the reason being that Allen himself didn't appear onscreen.
  16. Ran (1985), Kurosawa Akira. The almighty Kagemusha was merely a dress rehearsal for this one. This is the real thing. Because she's way better at this than I am, here's Pauline Kael's capsule for the New Yorker:

    Set in the sixteenth century, [Kurosawa's] 1985 spectacle, a variation on the theme of "King Lear," is static, but it deepens, and it has its own ornery splendor. It's a totally conceptualized work-- perhaps the biggest piece of conceptual art ever made. For the first forty minutes or so, the picture is all preparation, and it seems dead, but then the preparation begins to pay off, and by the end the fastidiousness and the monumental scale of what Kurosawa has undertaken can flood you with admiration. The fine, harsh percussive score is by Toru Takemitsu. In Japanese.


  17. Barton Fink (1991), Joel and Ethan Coen. This is probably in my top three favourite Coen brothers film, but I don't think I've watched this as much as Lebowski.
  18. Gattaca (1997), Andrew Niccol. Okay, I'm a sucker for visuals, and this is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. This is an amazing and intelligent sci-fi flick that is packed with so much gorgeous images, music, and actors that you may overdose on its sumptuousness. It features timeless architecture by good old Frank Lloyd Wright and 90s favourite Antoine Predock. It boasts a score by composer Michael Nyman. It has cinematography by Kieslowski collaborator Slavomir Idziak. It oozes Modern Things. Almost minimalist but elegant, the production design from Jan Roelfs, who like Nyman had previously worked on a number of Greenaway films, is distinguished by clean lines and sleek surfaces that, especially when accompanied by Uma Thurman, Ethan Hawke, and Jude Law, constitute a gorgeous feast of refined eye candy. Most importantly and surprisingly enough, beneath all that polish, there lies some fairly interesting ideas about the implications of genetic engineering. (Am I using too many adjectives here?)
  19. The Ice Storm (1997), Ang Lee's incredible adaptation of Rick Moody's novel. This film is great since it has all my particular bases covered bigtime.
  20. LA Confidential (1997), Curtis Hanson. How many more L.A. noir films can we get on this list? Perhaps it's not as deep or as profound as Chinatown, but it remains an astonishingly complex, tight, well-written, well-paced, well-crafted, and totally delightful movie to watch. It's perfect filmmaking.
  21. Rushmore (1998), Wes Anderson. It has: humour, wit, tight script, cool actors, odd sensibility, a very distinctive and evocative soundtrack, a nice, autumnal look (despite its Houston location), and Bill Murray at his best. I think part of its appeal lies with the fact that a lot of people, myself included, feel (in a semi-elitist sort of way) that it's a movie just made for you and you alone. It speaks in a language with a sense of humour and deadpan sensibility that only you can understand and appreciate. It's like arriving at college and finally finding like-minded individuals who have been missing all your life.
  22. Being John Malkovich (1999), the first feature film from our beloved Spike Jonze, as well as from crazy genius screenwriter Charlie Kaufman. After years of directing some of my favourite music videos, we can hardly expect anything less than brilliant. He doesn't disappoint here. This may be the most clever movie I have ever come across. Almost every line of dialogue shines. The film is also sympathetic to the flawed but hyper-human characters. While they may be experiencing bizarre circumstances in this movie, their behaviour is entirely believable. Needless to say, it's a staggeringly odd work, and yet in the end, it deals with the most basic and intrinsic aspects of human existence: desires, the nature of self, immortality, etc.
  23. Fight Club (1999), David Fincher. Incidentally, wasn't 1999 an awesome year for film? It rivals 1939 and 1974 as the best single year for American cinema. Please also see entry below for further comments.
  24. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), Michel Gondry. As you would expect from those crazy metaphysical cinematic geniuses Charlie Kaufman and Michel Gondry, this film pokes you in places where you aren't normally poked, and I mean it in a good way. No matter how far out their shtick may appear to be, they are ultimately interested in examining the utter strangeness of human nature (which also happens to be the title of their first feature-length presentation). Oh yeah, it's quite poignant too.
  25. Under the Skin (2013), Jonathan Glazer. This one pokes you in places where you aren't usually poked, and that's a compliment.



So what kinds of film do we really appreciate? Ultimately, the best films leave you slightly different than before you’ve seen it. Some may prompt animated discussions with your friends over long dinners. Others may force you in a state of silence or dazed speechlessness. All of them hold up, or even demand, repeated viewings, and they reward their audiences with something new each time the latter partake in them. Like all great art, the best films often provoke, disturb, scare, or challenge its audience.

The following includes links to resources to some of our favourite films, directors, and actors. This enumeration is not the definitive reflection of our cinematic tastes, since not all of our favourite titles have appropriate links. Again, we'll do the best we can with what we've got. This is one of those listings where what's left out is often just as revealing about me as what's include. More of our movie ratings can be found at our letterboxd profile. Finally as an additional resource, readers may also want to check out our media page. This page is divided into:






titles

Ran
  • 12 Monkeys (1995), Terry Gilliam created a beautiful reinterpretation of Chris Marker's La jetée.
  • 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968) is presented here in a spectacular fan site. It's explained here by an evocative animation. Here's an excerpt from Roger Ebert's review:

    The genius is not in how much Stanley Kubrick does in 2001: A Space Odyssey, but in how little. This is the work of an artist so sublimely confident that he doesn't include a single shot simply to keep our attention. He reduces each scene to its essence, and leaves it on screen long enough for us to contemplate it, to inhabit it in our imaginations. Alone among science-fiction movies, 2001 is not concerned with thrilling us, but with inspiring our awe.

    Dave


  • The Abyss (1989), James Cameron. It has a really lousy ending, but it is redeemed partially by its impressive hardware and production design.
  • The Act of Killing (2013) Joshua Oppenheimer.
  • Aliens (1986), James Cameron. This is probably his best ever.
  • Apollo 13 (1995), Ron Howard. Although it's a true story well-told, it is decidedly not as clever or as intellectually compelling as The Right Stuff (see below). However, the production design, the dazzling special effects, and the thorough depiction of Apollo era technology are boundlessly fascinating. More importantly, this film surprisingly has a personal resonance for me. Strangely enough, whenever I discuss issues relating to the complex but messy topic of patriotism with my friends, somehow I would always bring this movie into the dialogue. Specifically, I would bring up the scene with Ed Harris and his NASA team of engineers (uniformed in crew cuts and white shirts), breaking out their slide rules and absolutely determined to bring our boys home. That scene exemplified America's fearless, gung-ho, ingenious, clever (but at times unsophisticated), we-can-do-it, never-give-up spirit (whether this ideal justifiably applies to our society is obviously open to debate) quite well. That scene shows America at its best, and it makes me proud to be an American.

    Apollo 13 gantry


  • Arrival (2016), Denis Villeneuve. It strangely has a very clunky sequence / awkward narrative transition in the middle that blights this still wonderful work.
  • The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007), Andrew Dominik. While I love Dominik's previous Chopper, nothing prepared me for this mesmerising, medittative, and totally different follow-up.
  • Auf der anderen Seite (2007), Fatih Akin.
  • Babel (2006), Alejandro González Iñárritu.
  • Barry Lyndon (1975), Stanley Kubrick at his most hardcore and obtuse.
  • The Big Lebowski (1998), Joel and Ethan Coen. I'm not even sure whether this even belongs in my top three favourite Coen brothers film, but I've certainly watched this more often than any other.
  • Black Hawk Down (2001), Ridely Scott. The helicopter crashing sequence is one of my favourite editing moments in all of cinema.
  • Bottle Rocket (1996), Wes Anderson. Here's good old Dignan at his inimitable best:

    We'll get him. We'll get him. Man, don't worry about that, we'll get him. And when do, we'll blow up his car, do something. I can guarantee you that. What makes me furious is thinking about the look on Bob's fat face, thinking he pulled one over on us. I tell you another thing. If our paths cross again, you're gonna see a side of Dignan that you haven't seen before. A sick, sadistic side, 'cause I'm furious at Bob.

  • Brief Encounter (1945), David Lean.
  • Chocolat (1988), Claire Denis. I like movies that give you a weird feeling, or elicit sentiments you didn't know you were capable of previously. Her films have a hypnotic atmosphere. Sometimes the strength of her works don't really hit you until days after you have seen them; the emotions initially conveyed somehow linger and eventually resurface to haunt you. This subtle, quiet, and ultimately powerful meditation on human and race relations in French colonial west Africa is no exception. Here's a brief but insightful interview with her.
  • Clerks (1994), Kevin Smith. "37?!"
  • A Clockwork Orange (1971), Stanley Kubrick almost made it to the above list.
  • Dangerous Liaisons (1988), Stephen Frears. It has wonderful acting by a great cast, unexpected plot twists and intrigues, gorgeous sets and costumes, competent cinematography, and great music.
  • Dead Ringers (1988), David Cronenberg. A gynecological thriller if there ever is one, this is perhaps Cronenberg's weirdest but most delicious film to date partly because it manages to be funny and disturbing without any overt grotesque gross-outs.
  • Dr Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb (1964), Stanley Kubrick. A deviated, preverted classic.
  • The Drop (2014), Michaël R. Roskam's first American Film, with great cast of Tom Hardy, James Gandofini, Matthias Schoenaerts, and Noomi Rapace.
  • Ex Machina (2015), Alex Garland.
  • Fargo (1996), Joel and Ethan Coen. I don't think I have to explain why I like this one.
  • Fifth Element (1995), Luc Besson. Admittedly it is kind of silly, but it also doesn't take itself too seriously. So many interesting folks were involved in its making: the always over the top French director Luc Besson; Jean Paul Gauthier did the outrageous but fun costumes; the great set designer from Total Recall; young French director Matthieu Kassovitz in an acting role; and of course, Bruce and Gary.
Fight Club
  • Fight Club (1999), David Fincher. This is perhaps the best film released in that year (along with Malkovich of course). It's snide and attacks everything that needs to be attacked, and even more. Closer to home, this movie and the book by Chuck Palahniuk from which it is based, mercilessly make fun of IKEA boys like me, one of those "thirty year-old babies." Anyway, at times when you thought this movie was going to turn stupid, it doesn't, and it even surprises you. So basically, if you wanna be taken for a wild and fun ride, by all means take this one. It has several things going for it: a very funny and witty script, a crucial suspension of belief aspect notwithstanding; music by Dust Brothers; brisk and competent editing; good pacing; the usual David Fincher atmospheric grunginess; and gleefully, ecstatically euphoric fight sequences (cf. Alan Parker's Midnight Express). Here's an except of a 14.10.99 The Stranger interview with Palahniuk, in which he talks about David Fincher's working process:

    David Fincher comes from commercials and music videos, so [he] is very meticulous. When he films something, he [does] 40 or something takes. Even on the tiniest shot, every moment of the film is as well-planned as it can be, as well-planned as say… a television commercial. With David, every shot is [a] beauty shot... When I was on the set, there was a big cake that had David's 1,000th roll of film on it. When I had a chance to talk with him, he told me that most feature films are shot on 100 rolls of film, and I said, 'My God, you're on your 1,000th!' He then leaned over and said, 'No, actually we are at 1,500.' By the time they were done filming, they were [close] to 2,500 rolls. So that is what David Fincher took into the editing room: 2,500 rolls of film.

  • Following (1998), Christopher Nolan's amazing debut.
  • The Fugitive (1993), Andrew Davis. Unusually tight and focused, the editing and pacing here are just perfect-- not a moment wasted.
  • Full Metal Jacket (1987), Stanley Kubrick. Although flawed and somewhat incoherent, this film remains strangely powerful. The first section of the film is deliriously hilarious, and second part is just weird. I still really don't know what to make of it. "Five foot nine? I didn't know they stacked shit that high! You tryin' to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere, huh?... It looks to me like the best part of you ran down the crack of your momma's ass and ended up as a brown stain on the mattress! I think you've been cheated!"
  • Groundhog Day (1993), Harold Ramis. This movie has such an unusually original and clever script that it even kept ahead of me. Japanophile and film critic Donald Richie once noted in a lecture in Berkeley that, "One of the ideas behind that of the dharma is that of karma-- the repetition of life. And it takes many forms. In its infernal form, one of the finest and most thoroughly Buddhist films ever made was Groundhog Day."
  • The Hudsucker Proxy (1993), Joel and Ethan Coen. I love this even more because so many have forgotten about it.
  • The Hurt Locker (2008), Kathryn Bigelow.
  • In the Company of Men (1997), Neil LaBute's assault on humanity started here.
  • In the Mood for Love (2000), Wong Kar-wai.
  • Inside Llewyn Davis (2013), Joel and Ethan Coen.
  • Jackie Brown (1997) Quentin Tarantino.
  • Jude (1996), Michael Winterbottom's vastly underrated film features a brave and very convincing performance from Kate Winslet. As devastatingly and relentlessly bleak as the Thomas Hardy novel from which it is based, this film also has a fine cast, well-written script by Hossein Amini, memorable music, and beautifully haunting cinematography by Eduardo Serra.
  • Kill Bill (2003) Quentin Tarantino.
  • Kaidan (1964), Kobayashi Masaki.
  • El laberinto del fauno (Pan's Labyrinth) (2006), Guillermo del Toro.
  • Lantana (2001), Ray Lawrence.
  • Legend (1985), Ridley Scott. Information about the almost forgotten, horribly botched, and thoroughly abused 1985 Ridley Scott film.
  • Locke (2014), Steven Knight. It's Tom Hardy galore, but better than Kray Legend.
  • Lolita (1962), Stanley Kubrick. This is the master's first film where he had sufficient complete control over every aspect of the production, and he had to achieve this in England, where he remained for the rest of his life.
  • The Martian (2015), Ridley Scott.
  • The Matrix (1999), Andy and Laurence Wachowski. 1999-- what a year, eh? This movie could induce giddiness since it was so darn fun. It also didn't take itself too seriously, which somehow made it even more admirable. One of the most visually striking images on film in the 1990s was the scene with the glorious rain of bullets.
  • Michael Clayton (2007), Tony Gilroy. This is a perfectly made film that's also profoundly insightful about what's wrong with contemporary America.
  • Miller's Crossing (1990), Joel and Ethan Coen.
  • Mona Lisa (1986) Neil Jordan. This film has, to use Pauline Kael's expression, "under-the-boardwalk" quality to it. It's one of those films that pokes you in places where you usually don't get poked.
  • Moon (2009), Duncan Jones. Sam Rockwell is incredible here.
  • Moonlight (2016), Barry Jenkins. This will haunt you.
  • Playtime (1967), Jacques Tati.
  • Prometheus (2012), Ridely Scott. Despite what he says, it IS a prequel.
  • The Proposition (2005), John Hillcoat. I love it when movies have the ability to stun you, and perhaps your companions, into an uneasy silence. I disagree with Pauline Kael’s view that everyone goes to the movies to have a good time. Sometimes, you want to be intellectually challenged; sometimes you want to be educated outright; sometimes you want to see historical assumptions and universally-accepted myths questioned; sometimes you may even want to experience how your own moral compass can be so easily readjusted or paralysed during the course of a single film. This relentless movie does all of the above. Similar to films like Chinatown or early ones made by Bruce Beresford, the vicissitudes of its plot and protagonists manage to convey more insight to the respective societies their protagonists' posterity have engendered (Los Angeles and Australia) than volumes of written academic work may hope to provide. In other words, their characters’ actions, however personal and insular they may seem, always have a historical significance and resonance that we indelibly feel today. These people explain why Australia is the way it is today, and they do it even better than those incredibly beautiful and arty 1970s films like Nicolas Roeg’s Walkabout or the early Peter Weir works. Those works primarily dealt with how the colonisers clashed with the aborigines. The Proposition deals with how colonisers clashed amongst themselves (as well as with themselves individually and with the strange and inhospitable land). As usual, Ray Winstone, Emily Watson, and Guy Pearce turn in their great performances. What’s even more amazing here is that this entire provocative package was written by gothic avant-pop provocateur Nick Cave.
  • La règle du jeu (Rules of the Game) (1939), Claude Renoir.
  • Raging Bull (1980), Martin Scorsese. This was seriously flawed, but it was an absolutely gorgeous aesthetic experience nonetheless.
The Right Stuff
  • The Right Stuff (1983), Philip Kaufman. "How the future began." Ostensibly a docudrama based on Tom Wolfe's book about heroic American test pilots and NASA's pioneering Mercury programme, this Philip Kaufman epic carries surprisingly unconventional intonations and sensibilities. It also features a cool cast as well as an appropriately soaring score. A thoroughly delightful and perahps even a giddy experience, The Right Stuff is just an incredible movie whose sprawling canvas manages to convey an amazingly wide range of emotions. Although it's one of the funniest films I have ever come across, it's also filled with excitement, suspense, wonder, romance, euphoria, insightful depiction of a decidedly different era (with its nascent aerospace technologies as well as its even more unusual societal values), and even perhaps poignancy (particularly the somewhat troubling episode involving Gus Grissom's less than heroic return from space). The deadpan humour and the satire notwithstanding (admittedly not all of the corny jokes, various caricatures, and motifs work), this intelligent film also manages to glorify and honour these courageous American heroes without resorting to shallow jingoism. Dennis Quaid's mile-wide smile alone is worth checking this movie out. Here are a few interesting items:

    • Pauline Kael not only called the following "the most winning speech of the whole three-hour-and-twelve-minute movie," but also "the wittiest and most deeply romantic confirmation of a marriage ever filmed":

      Listen Annie. If you don't want the Vice President or the TV networks to come into our house, then that's it, as far as I'm concerned. They are NOT coming in, and I'll back you up one hundred percent on this! I don't want Johnson or anybody else to put so much as one TOE inside our house. You tell them I said that. You tell them Astronaut John Glenn told you to say that.


    • I totally agree with her.
    • Visit a great fan page with loads of info.
    • Hear some sound clips.
    • The Ed Harris and Scott Glenn Tribute Page is a lot of fun.
    • The Definitive Ed Harris page is also worth checking out.
    • The actual Brigadier General Chuck Yeager appeared as a bartender in the film.
    • Finally, this movie has little bits of magic scattered all over the place. One instance is described by the following excerpt from Pauline Kael's review:

      Strapped in and almost immobile [in the capsule], John Glenn [played by Ed Harris] is also the beneficiary of a magical effect that he himself can't see. The lights from the equipment that are reflected in the windows of all the astronauts' helmets hit him just right; we see two tiny lines of jewelled lights streaking down his face, one from each eye. "Astro tears" the movie crew called them. They suggest Jesus in space.


    Ed Harris as John Glenn


  • RoboCop (1987), Paul Verhoeven. I think Verhoeven is a badly misunderstood director in America partly due to the fact that he's Dutch. Most critics think he's just an exploitation director gone out of control. As an outsider, he clearly sees the loud, bombastic, violent, jingoistic, fascistic, and always over-the-top characteristics of American society, and all of his films, from campy Showgirls to Starship Troopers to Robocop, choose to reflect and comment on this, often in the form of satire. That's why all of his films have a sense of humour that most Americans often do not see.
  • Sans soleil (1982) Chris Marker.
  • The Selfish Giant (2013) Clio Barnard.
  • Seppuku (Harakiri)(1962), Kobayashi Masaki.
  • Se7en (1996), David Fincher. Despite the predictable ending, it's pretty tight in every respect. Amazing titles design too. To support my gleeful admiration for its production design, Rogert Ebert writes, "Although the time of the story is the present, the set design suggests the 1940s; Gary Wissner, the art director, goes for dark blacks and browns, deep shadows, lights of deep yellow, and a lot of dark wood furniture. It rains almost all the time." That's why it's such a pleasure to watch.
  • Shichinin no samurai (Seven Samurai) (1954), Kurosawa Akira.
  • Shotgun Freeway: Drives Through Lost LA (1995), Morgan Neville. Documentary about the concept of LA and its built landscape.
  • Showgirls (1995), Paul Verhoeven. This is one of the pinnacles of western civilisation.
  • Silence of the Lambs (1991), Jonathan Demme.
  • Sånger från andra våningen (Songs from the Second Floor) (2012), Roy Andersson.
  • Spring Breakers (2012), Harmony Korine. I can say so much about this, but not now.
  • Starship Troopers, (1997) Paul Verhoeven. With a ridiculuously sexy and nubile cast (featuring super sexpot-extraordinaire Denise Richards) and awesome special effects and production design, this campy big-budget movie's gleefully and gratuitously violent, sadistic, cynical, satirical, morally ambiguous (and perhaps a bit confused in tone), insightful at times, and as hilarious as hell. In other words, it's my kind of movie that's essentially badly misunderstood by everyone, its partisans as well as its detractors. It even rivals Verhoeven's infamous and giddy camp extravanganza Showgirls in terms of utterly over-the-top trashiness. Movies are rarely this much fun.
  • Synecdoche, New York (2008), Charlie Kaufman's debut as director is as gloriously weird as you expect it to be.
  • Taxi Driver (1976), Martin Scorsese.
  • Thelma and Louise (1991), Ridely Scott.
  • Three Kings (1999), David O. Russell.
  • Titanic (1997), James Cameron. Being the effete cultural snob that I am, I reckon I have more problems with its fans than the film itself. Yeah, the sacchrine material was probably way beneath what Kate Winslet can accomplish with her formidable talent. Yeah, it was a sappy no-brainer story, but in the end, it was probably worth its $200 million. Everything about this movie was well-done except for the big, dumb love story plot in the middle of everything. A production design tour de force, the movie was at its best when depicting the sense of everything being tilted; I loved it when those historically accurate-looking dishes slid off their cabinets and shelves.
  • True Lies (1994) James Cameron. This gets a mention here not only because of its Harrier jet, but also for its being one of the most enjoyable and funniest movies ever made (and by Cameron standards, it doesn't aeem to take itself too seriously).
  • Vertigo (1958), Alfred Hitchcock.
  • Welcome to the Dollhouse (1995), Todd Solondz. Official site of the very funny but accurate look at life in suburban junior high. One of my favourite lines: "Yo Wiener, you better get ready, 'cause at three o' clock today, I'm gonna RAPE you!"
  • Zero Dark Thirty (2012), Kathryn Bigelow. This is perhaps the most exiciting movie I have ever seen, yet everyone going in all knows how it ends.
  • Zodiac (2007), David Fincher.



directors

La Haine
  • Fatih Akin is a contemporary German filmmaker who makes accessible films with a lot of heart, and often delving into lives of Germans of Turkish descent.
  • Woody Allen. I don't really know what to say about him at the moment.
  • Robert Altman.
  • Wes Anderson.
  • Roy Andersson is the Nordic Jacques Tati. His clever sets tell more often tell more than half the story, and his love for humanity is palpable.
  • Ingmar Bergman and his legendary cinematographer Sven Nykvist produced a beautiful and thought-provoking body of work. I was obsessed with them when I was a young and impressionable lad because Bergman asks and confronts the most important questions in life. You can read a critique of his works by yours truly.
  • Bernardo Bertolucci.
  • John Boorman.
  • Danny Boyle.
  • James Cameron. His films' philosophical arguements are questionable as well as illogical at best. His dialogues downrighht suck. However, I really appreciate guys who still have such a shameless fetish for hardware, technology, and uncompromising craftsmanship.
  • Claude Chabrol can still make good films once in awhile.
  • Joel and Ethan Coen.
  • Anton Corbijn.
  • David Cronenberg. Obvious choice, eh? How can I possibly leave this director out of my list? He's also one very lucky bastard in the sense that he manages to find the financing to make very indiosyncratic films that examine even more personal, sometimes perverted, obsessions.
  • Alfonso Cuarón.
  • Chris Cunningham also makes very personal, idiosyncratic visions that are absolutely sublime. "Windowlicker" may have changed how I view the world. I don't think a cooler music video exists out there, except perhaps other Chris Cunningham videos. I can't wait until he tackles a full-length feature film. Maybe Neuromancer may one day happen.
  • Jonathan Demme.
  • Claire Denis is one of the most intellectual filmmakers working today. Her films are often also hypnotically beautiful to behold. You can find a lengthy Guardian interview here and another informative interview here.
  • Andrew Dominik is a Kiwi who has worked on always interesting Aussie and now American projects.
  • Rainer Werner Fassbinder.
  • David Fincher is a god. Movies were generally way too brightly-lit until he came along. Other than the opening title sequence of Panic Room, do you ever remember seeing a blue sky in any of his films? Even though his first feature, the ostensibly disappointing Alien3, wasn't so cool plotwise and was much compromised by studio executives, that film really set the stage for what to expect from all subsequent Fincher films. Believe me, like all great films, it gets better with subsequent viewings, and it holds up much better than expected. Incidentally, notice that Terry Rawlings, the editor of the first film, also cut this one.
  • Stephen Frears. In terms of genre jumping, I cannot come up with a more versatile director who usually excels at all of them.
  • Alex Garland.
  • Terry Gilliam needs to come back strong.
  • Jonathan Glazer is one of the most innovative and idiosyncratic auteurs working today.
  • Michel Gondry.
  • Peter Greenaway. All people interested in architecture and design should study the painterly and sumptuous films of this very idiosyncratic director. They are admittedly rather questionable in every sense at times. In addition to their incredible visual beauty, where else are you going to get depictions of a litany that includes scatology, disembowelment, castration, flayings, gang rape, various forms of dismemberment, and cannibalism? At worst, they often have the sensibilities of a precocious but pretentiously perverse artsy-fartsy teenager. You know who those types are. During a discussion session held at the 2004 Chicago Humanities Festival where he yet again completely dismissed the current state of cinema, he intentionally provoked the audience by providing fighting words which proclaimed that the work of media artist Bill Viola was worth ten Martin Scorseses.
  • Michael Haneke.
  • Todd Haynes.
  • Werner Herzog.
  • Alfred Hitchcock originally wanted his tombstone to read: "You see what can happen if you are not a good boy."
  • Gary Hustwit has been making hardcore docs about design lately.
  • Charlie Kaufman.
  • Ichikawa Kon.
  • Alejandro González Iñárritu.
  • Spike Jonze is probably my generation's greatest director.
  • Neil Jordan.
  • Mathieu Kassovitz. Bilingual site about the talented (and very cute) young French director and actor. I liked him even more after he spoke out against Israeli atrocities after a sceening of Les Rivières pourpres at the Seattle International Film Festival.
  • Aki Kaurismäki, the director of dark, compassionate, deadpan, minimalist, and funny-as-hell films from Finland.
  • Koreeda Hirokazu.
  • Krzysztof Kieslowski filled his films with such beautiful actresses, images, and music that even guys with pathologically short attention spans like me can appreciate them.
  • Abbas Kiarostami.
  • Kobayashi Masaki.
  • Stanley Kubrick. He's my all-time favourite director. Although Kubrick is not prolific, his projects are always worth the wait.
  • Charlie Kaufman.
  • Kurosawa Akira. When he's good, he's very good. When he's bad, he's very bad. His films tend to be embarrassingly preachy, but he's capable of masterpieces.
  • David Lean. We love him because he thought big, to an obsessive extent.
  • Ang Lee is probably Taiwan's most famous person.
  • Mike Leigh, the great idiosyncratic chronicler working-class British life.
  • Richard Linklater, like Soderbergh, is always switching genres and trying something entirely new, which is admirable.
  • Ken Loach.
  • David Lynch.
  • Louis Malle.
  • Michael Mann is big on atmosphere, both visually and aurally.
  • Chris Marker.
  • Mizoguchi Kenji.
  • Michael Moore can sometimes be a wee bit heavy-handed at times, but that's often why we love him. He throws things to see if they'll stick, but his subjects are always important. I think the writer Ian Buruma once quipped that anybody who wants us to 'wake up' and knock us out of our collective complacency, tend to be boring, or mad, or perhaps even both. However, Moore provides the exception to the rule—he makes me and many others laugh. The guy's funny, but he also knos what's ultimately at stake. Moore was then criticised heavily for speaking out against the Bush administration during his Oscar acceptance speech, but he was doing absolutely the right thing. Even though it was not popular, he was being completely responsible as a human being by speaking out against injustice. People who say that it’s inappropriate to talk politics at the Academy Awards are full of bullshit. They'd be irresponsible if they didn't. If the Awards were somehow held in the 1850s, I would want all of the recipients to speak out against the evils of slavery. If they didn’t, they should be considered accomplices. If I am a historian in the future looking back at the year 2003, I would expect to see all decent people of conscience speak out against the evils of American foreign policy. The Oscars has a viewing audience of over a billion people. To not speak out against evil and tyranny with that kind of a platform would be a crime. I applaud people like Moore, Clooney, and Susan Sarandon for their bravery, their integrity, and not turning away their duty as decent human beings.
  • Merchant Ivory. Are their films really Thatcherite heritage porn that ultimately undermines E.M. Forster's subtly subversive attacks on the repressions of Edwardian society? Maybe, but I must concede that I too fall prey to the seductiveness of their gorgeous and quite competently-made films. In the end, James Ivory, Ismail Merchant, and Ruth Prawer Jhabvala don't just make movies or heritage porn. They seem to market an entire lifestyle or sensibility. It's all tres Country Life or Ralph Lauren, n'est pas? According to the wise words of Libby Gelman-Waxner, "For years I thought that Merchant Ivory was a mail-order business like Victoria's Secret or the Bombay Company; I thought they sold fancy chamomile-scented guest soaps or decorative plates commemorating favorite episodes of Upstairs Downstairs."
  • Errol Morris has an interesting, offbeat official site. His documentary Fog of War reiterated something that has always disturbed me, as a historian and as an individual who feels that we should never forget or disregard the incomprehensible ravages of war on civilians. Conventional firebombing of Japanese cities in World War II has largely been forgotten, just like the relentless conventional bombing of German cities that began earlier in the war. (The latter was recounted hauntingly by the late German writer W.G. Sebald in On the Natural History of Destruction, which challenged the lack of acknowledgement of the fact that the brutal air war on 131 German cities killed some six hundred thousand civilians and destroyed the homes of more than seven and a half million people. Incidentally, the city of Dresden was memorialised quite memorably in Slaughterhouse-Five.) About this documentary, Roger Angell wrote in the January 19, 2004 issue of the New Yorker:

    …[Robert] McNamara’s testimony cuts deepest when he goes back to the Second World War firebombing of Tokyo by the American Twentieth Air Force, whose high-altitude B-29 bombers, redeployed at five thousand feet, rained down incendiaries that killed at least eighty-five thousand civilians in a single night. This campaign was continued almost in secrecy against lesser targets, and here, to a thrumming score by Philip Glass, Morris transforms clustering names of the burnt-down wooden Japanese cities into equivalent American towns, with the percent of residents killed attached: thirty-five percent of Chicago, fifty-eight percent of Cleveland, ninety-nine percent of Chattanooga, forty-two percent of Toledo, and so on. Sixty-seven Japanese cities were firebombed by the B-29s in the spring of 1945, and three hundred and fifty thousand civilians burnt to death- and the war in effect won- well before Hiroshima.

  • Andrew Niccol is a Kiwi who helmed interesting sci-fi projects.
  • Christopher Nolan.
  • Ozu Yasujiro. His amazing body of work evokes such a gloriously bittersweet feeling in me that I feel like crying inside. Never sappy, sorrow in his films are so sumptuous that they feel like pleasure. I'm not even going to attempt to describe how good he was, so again I'll just let Roger Ebert do it (from his well-written review of the Floating Weeds):

    Sooner or later, everyone who loves movies comes to Ozu. He is the quietest and gentlest of directors, the most humanistic, the most serene. But the emotions that flow through his films are strong and deep, because they reflect the things we care about the most: Parents and children, marriage or a life lived alone, illness and death, and taking care of one another.

  • Alexander Payne.
  • Roman Polanski.
  • Michael Powell and Emeric Pressburger.
  • Lynne Ramsay.
  • Jean Renoir.
  • Guy Ritchie. Whatever you may say about his work, you'll have to concede that his films all look great and are usually quite funny.
  • David O. Russell used to be more interesting, when he made wonderfully weird shit like Huckabees.
  • Ridley Scott, my favourite living director, essentially creates visual perfection. It's amazing how famous he is these days, and what an incredible body of work. Every one of his films, even the relatively mediocre ones, features dazzling visuals, a distinct sense of place and atmosphere, meticulous production designs (e.g., Hannibal feels like an art history lesson by Grand Guignol), brilliant music, and often lots and lots of steam. Another aspect that I love about Scott is that his commentaries for DVDs are so informative to the extent that you feel like you should be taking notes as you would in a lecture. I've also grown to love how he's obviously enjoying a cigar as he's doing his commentaries.
  • Kevin Smith. The official site of his View Askew production company.
  • Steven Soderbergh is insanely prolific and whose eclectic projects are always interesting.
  • Peter Strickland. Whatever weird dishes he's cooking up, I'll be there to eat it all up. He's one of the most innovative and idiosyncratic auteurs working today.
  • Quentin Tarantino. Yeah, he’s a bit of a megalomaniac, but then he may well be the most talented American filmmaker today. He deserves to be a megalomaniac, 'cause he's just fucking brilliant. He no doubt changed the face of film. Anthony Lane of the New Yorker once wrote:

    Everybody knows the old E.M. Forster distinction between story and plot: “The king died and then the queen died” is a story. “The king died and then the queen died of grief” is a plot. Fair enough, but what Forster failed to foresee was the emergence of a third category, the Quentin Tarantino plot, which goes something like this: “The king died while having sex on the hood of a lime-green Corvette, and then the queen died of contaminated crack borrowed from the court jester, with whom she was enjoying a conversation about the relative merits of Tab and Diet Pepsi as they sat and surveyed the bleeding remains of the lords and ladies whom she had just blown away with a stolen .45 in a fit of grief.”

  • Jacques Tati made surprisingly architectural films that were also funny as hell.
  • Peter Weir once made incredible, almost meditative films before cranking out sappy Hollywood stuff.
  • Orson Welles.
  • Ben Wheatley works in unconventional narratives and innovative concepts. As a relatively prolific director, he reminds me of a young Winterbottom, who's trying out so many different out-there ideas and seeing if some or any of them stick.
  • Billy Wilder excelled in so many genres. He's just amazing. The following is excerpted from the programme notes of the PBS series American Masters:

    From the late 1930s to the early 1960s, Billy Wilder dominated Hollywood's Golden Age. He is one of Hollywood's all-time greatest directors, producers and screenwriters, with more than 50 films and six Academy Awards to his credit. His films range from stark melodrama [and film noir], like Double Indemnity, The Lost Weekend, and Sunset Boulevard to antic farce, such as The Seven Year Itch and Some Like It Hot, to satiric comedy, like A Foreign Affair and [the bittersweet and romantic] The Apartment.

  • Andy and Lana Wachowski used to be known as the Wachowski Bros.
  • Michael Winterbottom is insanely prolific, experimental, and whose projects, if anything, are always interesting, whether they work or not.
  • Wong Kar-wai.
  • Edgar Wright.
  • Zhang Yimou has been stretching his range of genre of films lately. Whether they're great or not-so-great films doesn't really matter, since the results are always compelling and visually striking. Recent political stances notwithstanding, he's perhaps the best mainland Chinese filmmaker alive.



cinematographers

The Insider
  • Lance Acord served as Spike Jonze's go-to DP for all of his full-length projects before Her.
  • John Alcott was Kubrick's longtime DP, and he filmed Barry Lyndon.
  • Néstor Almendros filmed the incredible Days of Heaven, among many others, as well as Eric Rohmer's longtime DP.
  • Adrian Biddle has collaborated with Ridley Scott a few times. Incidentally, they say that white men can't jump. How about Americans can't operate a movie camera? Just survey the list to follow here. Can you spot any Americans?
  • Jan de Bont was Paul Verhoeven's cameraman who became a bigtime director in his own right.
  • Jordan Cronenweth. This legendary British cameraman had worked in a wide variety of productions (my favourites include Blade Runner and Stop Making Sense), and he was the father of hot cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth, who has filmed everything from the sterile One Hour Photo and grungy Fight Club to the technicolor orgy of Peyton Reed's Down with Love. Oh yeah, he also filmed perhaps my favourite music video of all time (directed by David Fincher), George Michael's almighty "Freedom 90."
  • Roger Deakins is best known as the director of photography for Coen Brothers' films since Barton Fink, but he has also worked on a few notable (such as Scorsese's Kundun) and many high profile Hollywood projects.
  • Christopher Doyle, the famous Hong Kong-based DP who's getting more awesome each year. He has worked wonders with both Zhang Yimou and Wong Kar Wai.
  • Frederick Elmes was often the cinematographer for David Lynch and Ang Lee. Yeah, he's a Jersey boy.
  • Agnès Godard is Claire Denis's longtime cinematographer.
  • Slavomir Idziak worked with Kieslowski, Michael Winterbottom (I Want You), Andrew Niccol (Gattaca), and Ridley Scott (Black Hawk Down), among others.
  • Janusz Kaminski is Steven Spielberg's longtime cinematographer.
  • Darius Khondji has even filmed a few Chris Cunningham videos, including Madonna's "Frozen."
  • Emmanuel Lubezki is the Mexican DP who has worked on several projects with Alfonso Cuarón.
  • John Mathieson is the British DP who filmed Scott's gorgeous Gladiator, Hannibal, and Matchstick Men.
  • Chris Menges worked for many notable British productions, including David Puttnam and Roland Joffe's The Killing Fields and The Mission.
  • Miyagawa Kazuo completed an incredible body of work that included classics from Kurosawa, Ichikawa, Mizoguchi, and even Ozu (his beautiful colour version of Floating Weeds).
  • Sven Nykvist needs no introduction. Simply put, he was a fucking god! Bergman once said that Nykvist can make a film without him, but he can't make a film without Nykvist.
  • Carlo di Palma was Woody Allen's cinematographer from Hannah through Deconstructing Harry. He also filmed de Sica's Bicycle Thieves.
  • Roger Pratt worked on many films with Terry Gilliam and Mike Leigh, as well as Neil Jordan's Mona Lisa and Tim Burton's Batman.
  • Rodrigo Prieto is yet another Mexican DP who has filmed Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain and Lust Caution, Julie Taymor's Frida, Curtis Hanson's 8 Mile, and as the longtime collaborator of Alejandro González Iñárritu, Babel and Amores perros.
  • Harris Savides is actually an American DP. He has shot several later films of Gus Van Sant, as well as David Fincher's Zodiac and The Game, Ridley Scott's American Gangster, and Madonna's video for "Rain."
  • Eduardo Serra works mainly for French productions, but he has also ventured out to do a few British (including Michael Winterbottom's Jude) and American projects (What Dreams May Come and Unbreakable).
  • Barry Sonnenfeld went on to become a noted Hollywood director in his own right, but he became first known for his brilliant camera work for the first three Coen Bros. pictures.
  • Vittorio Storaro is the ultimate classic Italian cinematographer, and there are many out there.
  • Alex Thomson has worked with, among others, Nicolas Roeg, Ridley Scott, David Fincher, Roland Joffe, and John Boorman.
  • Sacha Vierny has filmed classics like Hiroshima mon amour as well as most of Peter Greenaway's painterly spectacles.
  • Gordon Willis is on this list for being the director of photography for the Godfather trilogy as well as for the greatest films (certainly the most beautiful) of Woody Allen's career, from Annie Hall through Purple Rose of Cairo.
  • Dariusz Wolski has been Ridley Scott's go-to guy in recent years following Prometheus.



actors

The Insider
  • Casey Affleck.
  • Stéphane Audran.
  • Fanny Ardant.
  • Emmanuelle Béart is simply amazing to look at. In Anthony Lane's delicious review of 8 femmes in the New Yorker, he wrote that "the constume designer, Pascaline Chavanne, is quoted in an interview as saying that Emmanuel Béart, already clad in a maid's outfit, 'suggested higher botts.' An excellent idea."
  • Daniel Auteuil. En français.
  • Richard Ayoade is also a noted director.
  • Bill Bailey.
  • Christian Bale.
  • Eric Bana.
  • Javier Bardem.
  • Alan Bates.
  • Rob Beckett is one of my favourite panel show panellist.
  • Ingrid Bergman.
  • Gael García Bernal.
  • Sandra Bernhard. She has to belong somewhere.
  • Juliette Binoche has one of those faces that you simply can't take your eyes off. Just looking at her smile makes me feel slightly happier (no small feat).
  • Michel Blanc. En français.
  • Cate Blanchett. I love actors who can disappear into his or her roles and speak convincingly in different accents; this technically brilliant Aussie actor can manage these challenges quite well.
  • Moritz Bleibtreu.
  • Russell Brand.
  • Frankie Boyle.
  • Jim Broadbent.
  • Josh Brolin.
  • Rob Brydon.
  • Michael Caine. Even in bad movies, he's still an incredible actor to look at.
  • Jimmy Carr.
  • Helena Bonham Carter. Her relatively recent diversification of roles is quite amazing.
  • Vincent Cassel.
  • John Cleese.
  • Sacha Baron Cohen.
  • Toni Colette. She's yet another versatile great Aussie character actor who has become famous enough to be mostly playing Americans these days.
  • Olivia Colman started out in comedy, and she's from Footlights, so basically she can do anything.
  • Roisin Conaty.
  • Paddy Considine.
  • Steve Coogan.
  • James Corden.
  • Tom Courtenay.
  • Daniel Craig.
  • Bryan Cranston. I've always believed that actors who excel in comedy generally make better dramatic actors. He's the proof.
  • David Cross.
  • Russell Crowe. Who would have thought he would become as big as he is today. For awhile he was a vastly underrated Aussie actor who still managed to disappear into his roles. If you want to know what I'm talking about, be sure to check out some of his interesting early Aussie films like Romper Stomper, Sum of Us, and Proof. He's versatile, but he has more than enough gravitas to be as big a movie star as he is today. He's also becoming to Ridley Scott who Mifune Toshiro was to Kurosawa Akira.
  • Vincent D'Onofrio is a terrific and underrated character actor who is willing to take interesting risks over the years.
  • Matt Damon.
  • Alan Davies.
  • Greg Davies.
  • Judy Davis. I can't seem to get enough of her, and the mere mention of her name would excite me. She's at her best when playing women on the verge of totally losing it.
  • Daniel Day-Lewis is the Olivier of our generation.
  • Jack Dee.
  • Judi Dench. I saw her onstage with Maggie Smith in the West End on Valentine's Day 2003.
  • Marlene Dietrich.
  • Catherine Deneuve. She's a goddess, but yet she still takes on interesting and somewhat risky roles that stretch her artistry. Once again, in his wonderfully delicious review of 8 femmes in the New Yorker, Anthony Lane commented on the infamous catfight scene:

    At the risk of tripping off a stampede of the nation's voyeurs, I have to say that, for sheer fetishistic whoopie, there is very little to rival the sight of Catherine Deneuve and Fanny Ardant getting into a catfight, all hisses and claws, then slowly sinking to the floor and starting to stroke each other's whiskers. (To achieve a similar effect here [in America], you would have to pay Faye Dunaway to make out with Jane Fonda. At the time of writing, this seems unlikely.)

  • Joel Edgerton.
  • Colin Farrell. Don't let his prettiness fool you. This can has chops.
  • Mia Farrow.
  • Michael Fassbender is a terrific leading man as well as character actor (with astonishing technical abilities) who is willing to take interesting risks. What can't he do?
  • Ralph Fiennes. Why is his name pronounced 'Ray'?
  • Albert Finney.
  • Colin Firth.
  • Jane Fonda.
  • Harrison Ford. After enjoying so many of his movies over the years, I'll even forgive him for lapses like being involved in Air Force One.
  • Jodie Foster. My favourite quote from her, taken from October 1991 issue of Interview:

    The thing that everybody finds out about me once they really get to know me is just how terrifically boring I am, and how I aspire to being boring. I'm sure eventually it will turn everybody off of me because my dream in life is to wear sweats and go to a mall.

  • James Franco loves cock... or does he?
  • Martin Freeman.
  • Dawn French.
  • Nick Frost.
  • Stephen Fry and and his comedic partner Hugh Laurie.
  • Mark Gatiss.
  • Ricky Gervais has built a multimedia empire.
  • John Gielgud.
  • Rhod Gilbert is a sexy Welsh funny bloke.
  • Brendan Gleeson.
  • John Goodman. While his performances are always a pleasure to behold, his formidable physical stature would admittedly limit him to certain roles. However, he's so perfect in those Coen Bros. movies that you can't imagine anyone else in those roles.
  • Dave Gorman.
  • Hugh Grant. After seeing him in work such as Florence Foster Jenkins, A Very English Scandal, Paddington 2, and Cloud Atlas, your creeping suspicion that Hugh Grant may be an incredibly talented and versatile actor has finally been confirmed.
  • Spalding Gray, the monologist and storyteller extraordinaire.
  • Alec Guinness. His performances in Ealing Studios comedies were astounding.
  • Gene Hackman is always reliable, if not terrific.
  • Hara Setsuko.
  • Tom Hardy is yet another versatile British leading man who has sufficient technical abilities to be a great character actor. Like Fassbender, there's nothing he can't do.
  • Woody Harrelson is strangely underrated American actor who is always interesting in any project he's in. Very versatile but too quirkly to be conventional leading man material, he's one of the greatest and most compelling character actors, and aren't we lucky?
  • Ed Harris. Just look at his eyes. They speak volumes. How can you not fall in love? His profoundly handsome countenace is always fascinating to behold. Here's Pauline Kael again:

    But Harris has a scary, unstable quality that's pretty much his own. He holds his head stiff on his neck, and he's the kind of very still actor who can give you the willies: he often has the look of someone who's about to cry, and a flicker of a smile can make you think the character he's playing is a total psycho.

  • Richard Harris.
  • Ian Hart is a great underrated character actor.
  • Miranda Hart.
  • Sally Hawkins.
  • Philip Seymour Hoffman.
  • Anthony Hopkins.
  • Bob Hoskins was always incredible to watch. I'm saddened that he never got an Oscar.
  • Rufus Hound is a very funny bloke, who has a sexy, manly accent, and who (thankfully for us) is very comfortable with his body.
  • Isabelle Huppert is fearless and fierce! She has been fucking awesome in all those later Claude Chabrol films as well as the edgier newer stuff like la Pianiste.
  • Angelica Huston.
  • Jeremy Irons always finds interesting roles for himself.
  • Oscar Isaac is a classic triple threat. He can sing (and play guitar)! He can dance! And he can act!
  • Glenda Jackson.
  • Samuel L. Jackson. I cannot come up with another actor who brings as much delight as when swearing.
  • Jim Jefferies.
  • Toby Jones.
  • Tommy Lee Jones.
  • Phill Jupitus.
  • Miles Jupp.
  • Diane Keaton.
  • Catherine Keener. Hands down, she plays the best movie bitches of our time.
  • Tim Key.
  • Kevin Kline, a great American character actor.
  • Grace Kelly. You just can't take your eyes off her.
  • Stewart Lee.
  • Robert Lepage slays your faves by doing everything you wish you could and a whole lot more as an visual multimedia artist, film and stage director, playwright, and actor.
  • Sean Lock is my favourite regular panel show guest, ever.
  • Louis C.K. has a name with inconsistent spelling in terms of inclusion of periods in it (even on his official products).
  • Joe Lycett.
  • Lee Mack.
  • John Malkovich is another great character actor and always fascinating/ funnny/ creepy to watch.
  • Jason Manford.
  • Frances McDormand, a great character actor.
  • Ewan McGregor seems to like full-frontals; fortunately, we like 'em too. Oh, and he's great too.
  • Mifune Toshiro.
  • Helen Mirren. British film world would be a lesser place without her.
  • David Mitchell and his great comedic partner Robert Webb.
  • Julianne Moore. Fearless and always technically brilliant. I'd follow her anywhere she goes artistically, and she goes pretty far.
  • Jeanne Moreau.
  • Viggo Mortensen.
  • Samantha Morton is always intriguing.
  • Peter Mullan is someone whom I'll watch in anything.
  • Carey Mulligan.
  • Al Murray, the Pub Landlord.
  • Bill Murray. Simply sublime. He's one of the few persons on the planet who can get a laugh from me by simply standing there and doing pretty much nothing.
  • Philippe Noiret. En français.
  • Dara Ó'Briain.
  • David O'Doherty.
  • Peter O'Toole.
  • Gary Oldman sometimes overmodulates a bit (a notable exception being the Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy remake), but he is an extremely versatile character actor who still manages to effectively disappear into the roles he's playing. However, he maybe also needs to pick his projects more carefully.
  • Simon Pegg.
  • Pete Postlethwaite.
  • Charlotte Rampling. Her unsentimental portrayals scares me at times, but for a lack of a better description, I think she's always interesting to look at.
  • Vanessa Redgrave.
  • Oliver Reed.
  • Jean Reno. En français.
  • Christina Ricci. For such a young actor, she seems to work on the most interesting projects.
  • Jon Richardson.
  • Sam Rockwell is a fine American character actor who's always wonderfully a bit 'off.'
  • Saoirse Ronan.
  • Tim Roth.
  • Mark Ruffalo.
  • Katherine Ryan is one of my favourite panel show panellist.
  • Susan Sarandon, the intelligent sexpot who's also a great actor/ saint.
  • Matthias Schoenaerts.
  • Peter Sellars. He might have had gone too far in some of his roles, but there's no denying that he was one of the most talented and versatile actors ever. My favourite loopy line reading of his was in Lolita, where after "Roman ping... Roman pong," Quilty tries to read the letter Humbert was forcing him to read. "Because you have taken advantage..."
  • Sarah Silverman.
  • J.K. Simmons.
  • Stellan Skarsgård.
  • Frank Skinner.
  • Maggie Smith. I saw her onstage in West End once...
  • Kevin Spacey.
  • Timothy Spall.
  • Barbara Stanwyck.
  • Imelda Staunton.
  • Meryl Streep is often a joy to behold these days. Her technical brilliance have always amazed filmgoers. In the 1980s, many people including myself became a bit tired of all her Oscar bait prestige projects, but then her choice in roles has really been widened since the 90s.
  • Tilda Swinton. Like the case with the other ginger goddess Julianne Moore, wherever Swinton goes (and she does get pretty far quite often), I'm willing to follow her there.
  • Max von Sydow, as one of Ingmar Bergman's most almighty but versatile stock players, starred in everything from Nattvardsgästerna and Det sjunde inseglet, to Game of Thrones, Rush Hour 3, and The Simpsons. God bless him.
  • Takamine Hideko was the penultimate movie goddess in golden age of Japanese cinema in the 1950s.
  • Tanaka Kinuyo had produced an incredible body of work (many with Mizoguchi Kenji and Ozu Yasujiro) during the classic period of Japanese cinema.
  • Catherine Tate.
  • David Thewlis.
  • Emma Thompson.
  • Ingrid Thulin, as one of Ingmar Bergman's most almighty but versatile stock players, was one of the first fearless I-can't-believe-she-went-there screen actors.
  • Uma Thurman. I love to watch her so much that the mere anticipation of her making her first entry into a film excites me.
  • Jean-Louis Trintignant.
  • John Turturro. His greatest moment: licking the bowling ball.
  • Liv Ullman, the ultimate Bergman medium, in my opinion.
  • Tracey Ullman. She's the British Robin Williams, and she can sing too.
  • Johnny Vegas.
  • Christoph Waltz.
  • Emily Watson.
  • Sigourney Weaver, the Queen of Sci-fi. In her review of Peter Weir's The Year of Living Dangerously, Pauline Kael dubbed Weaver as the "brainy female-hunk."
  • Robert Webb.
  • Ben Whishaw.
  • Jack Whitehall is so cute (even though he's not my type sexually speaking) that I reckon I'd watch him in anything, and I do.
  • Josh Widdicombe.
  • Joe Wilkinson is wonderfully weird.
  • Tom Wilkinson, the perennial great British character actor.
  • Kate Winslet remains a great actor who has participated in very interesting projects before and after doing that flick about some sinking ship. Somehow, I keep falling in love with the magnetic, impulsive, free-spirited characters she plays. Think people like Clementine in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.
  • Ray Winstone has played quite a few brutes and monsters that demonstrate what an incredible actor he is. Cool site worthy of an awesome actor.



other resources on cinema

À la verticale de l'été
  • American Film Institute.
  • Peter Bradshaw reviews for the Guardian.
  • British Board of Film Classification is tough but consistent.
  • British Film Institute also publishes Sight & Sound.
  • Cinema Review. Reviews galore of recent flicks.
  • Cinemania is Microsoft's impressive clearinghouse site about the movies and the people who make them truly delivers. It even features an extensive collection of reviews of past films and classics.
  • Criterion Collection. Bergman, Goddard, Kurosawa, Mizoguchi, et al. are all here with essays galore.
  • CriterionCast.com is an entire network of various podcasts, blogs, news articles, and essays all devoted to watching, evaluating, and collecting the almighty Criterion Collection.
  • Dark Horizons features reviews, trailers, and industry gossip of the latest, previous, and forthcoming blockbusters, thrillers, and sci-fi flicks.
  • Deep Focus. Well-designed site featuring film reviews by a bloke named Bryant Frazer.
  • Roger Ebert usually writes quite well and writes often, and you can read his reviews archived here. He's often the first source I turn to for an opinion. Although he's not Pauline Kael in terms of being a stylist extraordinaire, he's much more amiable and seemingly much less presumptuous or arbitrary. As a true renaissance man, he's unusually well-informed for a critic, and he'll tell you when he isn't too well-versed on a particular subject matter. For an example of a great Ebert review, check out what he has to say about Jane Campion's Sweetie, a strange film that's rather difficult to articulate to say the least.
  • Ecran Noir is a must if you like French films and stars.
  • Filmspotting is a very professional and well-produced podcast of movie reviews by Adam Kempenaar and Sam Hallgren, Chicago filmgeeks of my age group whom I enjoy listening to immensely. They remind of of Dean Cohen and Brandy French's programme Critics' Corner on KPFK Pacifica radio in LA in the 1980s. Unlike the countless other shows with the Siskel and Ebert, point-counterpoint setup of two guys talking and arguing about the movies, Sam and Adam's programme, like Critic's Corner, is essentially geared toward literate audiences who are already film-buffs. They don't need to pander or to be beholden to the obvious constraints and demands inherent in mainstream media outlets like commercial television. However, unlike Critics' Corner, this isn't an audio version of Film Comment. To be sure, they are quite erudite about film, and they sound much more professional than most college radio programmes of this sort, but they certainly aren't Pauline Kael or Roger Ebert. They basically have the same (pop)cultural reference points as you and me, and they haven't seen every classic film that exists out there. However, they readily admit to this quite often, and they assure audiences that they'll be obliged to address to the omissions as soon as they can. You feel like you're learning about the world of fim with them instead of from them. The bottom line is that you can identify with these guys in a way that you never, ever would with the A.O. Scotts or perhaps even the Manohla Dargises of the world. Incidentally, I agree with Adam more often than Sam, but the former's admiration for the acting skills of Keanu Reeves still freaks me out to no end. And Laura Linney as mere "age-appropriate character delivery device"? Ouch, that's so harsh.
  • France Cinéma Multimédia.
  • Greatest Films site features detailed reviews and information about them.
  • letterboxd, where we keep profile.
  • Internet Movie Database is one of the greatest resources on the net.
  • Mark Kermode reviews and interviews for the BBC and the Guardian and the Observer.
  • Kinema Club. This page is devoted to resources on Japanese films in North America.
  • Masters of Cinema. The biggest auteurs are on parade here, a site that's "collating, disseminating film and DVD news for discerning cineastes the world over." This is a great resource.
  • Media Resources Center was once a place for me to spend a wonderful afternoon for free when I occasionally had free time long ago.
  • MovieMartyr.com by Jeremy Heilman consists of a big collection of reviews of important films from around the world.
  • National Film Board of Canada.
  • Nowness shows whatever is inetersting or beautiful, whether it comes from the mainstream or underground. You will not be bored here.
  • Projection Booth Podcast is for hardcore cult film geeks only, as each episode is usually about 3-4 hours in length.
  • Jonathan Rosenbaum. I have to admit I do not understand everything he writes, but the (often obscure) films he chooses to review are well-considered, and what he has to say (which is sometimes almost opaque to me) are always interesting.
  • Scarecrow Video is a serious place on Roosevelt out in Seattle's U-District. As an example of how hardcore they are, they even rent out PAL VCRs and region-free DVD players so that you can view selections from their extensive collection in these formats.
  • Reviews and Reflections provides detailed reviews with an artistic sensibility as well as interesting related links. Be sure to check out an insightful take on Ridley Scott within the review of the underrared but admittedly very flawed G.I. Jane.
  • Sci-Fi Movie Page has a fine collection of articles as well as current and archive reviews.
  • Screen Trade Canada is a big site that provides news and information about the Canadian film industry and its people.
  • Strictly Film School is a collection of reviews by Acquarello, with a decidedly academic slant. It focuses on the canon of important films from around the world.
  • W A R P F I L M S
    Chris Cunningham lives here, among others.
  • Watching the Directors is a podcast in which each episode focuses on a particular auteur. Listening is like taking a class on that director.
  • World Cinema is a terrific and extensive resource with loads on international actors, directors, and titles.



DVD reviews
  • digitallyOBSESSED covers a lot of foreign and indie flicks.
  • DVD Angle.
  • DVD Basen, a very useful Danish site that has links to reviews of DVDs from all regions. This is a good place to start wherever in the world you are.
  • DVD Beaver, a personal site of interest to those who like their films artsy and foreign.
  • DVD Breakdown is simple and straightforward.
  • DVD File has industry news and reviews.
  • DVD Journal. More reviews.
  • DVD Movie Guide is good for mainstream Region 1 releases. It's straightforard and easy to use.
  • DVD Reviewer has detailed reviews of Region 1 and 2 releases.
  • DVD Shrine.
  • DVD Talk also deals with hardware issues, but the main attraction here is the collection of reviews by cinephile and film editor DVD Savant Glenn Erickson.
  • DVD Verdict has some cool Region 1 reviews written in a clever format.



access




post

Reach us at 'bcbloke' on all the usual social media platforms